


Dick Drought

by Kim_Kardashian



Series: Dick Conquistador [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: A Blowjob™, Alternate Universe - College/University, Dialogue Heavy, Levi's arms, M/M, Taco Bell, Thirsting for your manager basically, absolute clusterfuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:04:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kim_Kardashian/pseuds/Kim_Kardashian
Summary: Armin has seen everything, the ugliest parts of me, my ass. (Not really, my ass was great, I would mean me, my entire existence).It began at a gynecologist’s office, when Mikasa got chlamydia. And Levi is just hard to ignore.





	1. Conflict of Interest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heiney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heiney/gifts).



> there's no explanation for this, but it's not a waste of space, i can assure you :)

I lost feeling in my left buttcheek, lifted it a bit to get the blood flowing again, and wondered how long this would take. Or something. I've always been prone to digestive problems so Pepto Bismol was always my best friend. Next to Armin of course, because who could forget about him?

“Hey?”

_“I know you have me on speaker, Eren.”_

What is that supposed to mean? I know what it’s supposed to mean, I’m just playing hard to get.  

“I need you.” I said solemnly.

He snorted.  _“Everybody does. I’m watching Gossip Girl, bro."_ I heard the crinkling from his bag of Doritos.

“Don't fucking call me that.”

 _“I forget you're gay sometimes. But I meant that ironically_ ,” he laughed. Asshole. Flashback time, also known as a moment in which I regret my entire existence: when I was sixteen and still very much experimenting with my penis, I dated Jean for a while. I know, I still can't believe it myself, but lo and behold, Armin walked in on us, well on _me_ , sucking his dick. Now I'm not a liar, I do occasionally dream about that dick because it was very, very much a gift from Jesus Christ. The rest of Jean isn't, and I live with the scars every day every time I see his neighing ass. Which is every day because we live together. His pubes have touched my face, but I try not to think about it too much when he's masturbating and the only thing between us is a wall. Armin will always be there to remember the sin until one of us dies.

“Bisexual, _bro_. Get it right." If he could recite the ten commandments, he can remember what these hands do. How many times do I have to remind him that I, Eren, enjoy sausage parties and gardens of Eden? And I'm not saying this with pride, but how many euphemisms actually exist for the word vagina? To be more specific, I've touched Annie’s and that counts as an accomplishment, I might as well receive the Nobel Peace Prize.

_“Fingering doesn't count. And do I have to remind you, I'm fucking watching Gossip Girl, what do you need?”_

“You. I've always needed you,” I whispered.

_“I'm hanging up.”_

Oh. “No, I'm kidding, sort of. I'm having a problem right now,” I started, annoyance bubbling into what I always knew would be gas.

He sighed, the crunching stopped. _“You know I'm in college, right? I have a term bill, and I don't have money.”_ He sounded so tired I almost considered offering him my Chipotle coupon.

“I wasn't asking for money. I was wondering...if you would pick some Pepto Bismol up from Rite Aid? I'll pay you when you get here,” I said, trying to sound as friendly as possible. Usually earns me some kudos.

Armin has seen everything, the ugliest parts of me, my ass. (Not really, my ass was great, I would mean me, my entire existence). He waxed my armpits when I broke my arm. Bought me anti itching cream when I got poison ivy on my face for giving a blowjob at the park (I know what I am). He's been the Donkey to my Shrek. Mikasa would be Puss, because you are what you eat.

_“Diarrhea?”_

Have mercy on me. “Yes.”

_“Double crust pizza with extra cheese from Papa John’s?”_

I closed my eyes. “Yes, Papa.”

_“Extra garlic sauce?”_

Stop. “Obviously.”

_“Fuck you. I'll be there in twenty minutes.”_

Sometimes I felt like choking him with Mikasa’s antimicrobial anal beads.

-

I played some Trivia Crack while I waited. There was no way in hell I was going to sit here and contemplate my existence more than usual. It's the easiest thing to do when sitting on a toilet, a few semesters away from getting my degree. Which I will need to pay off by the time I graduate and my current position includes being the manager at Sina Mart in the Trost District. I've done the calculations and they say I need a second job real fucking soon.

I've switched my major four times (much to my father’s disappointment), and also developed an obsession with Dr. Pepper. Mikasa has gotten chlamydia once, much to my amusement (no one expected it from _her)_ . They did expect it from _me_ after my Slut Phase (lots of Grindr, lots of it), and Levi definitely hated me because I didn't tell him about his sister’s situation down there.

We haven't spoken since her gynecology appointment, but I remembered that he still owed me twelve bucks.

“Eren, open the goddamn door!”

Flushing the toilet and spraying Febreze, I did what had to be done. “I have a sense of poise and rationality.”

“I hate you so much sometimes." I opened slowly just to build suspense, not even bothering to ask him how he got inside my apartment. Honestly, it's Jean who probably gave him the key. I took the moment to assess him, focusing on two things. Armin looked _tired_ , like he had been watching Gossip Girl, which he was. Second, he was wearing his Harry Potter onesie.

“Did you go out like that? In public?” I didn't bother raising my eyebrows, my soul already knew the answer.

“Is that how you thank your savior? The first thing you do the moment I step in is judge me,” he sighed, nuzzling into the couch. I should probably inform him that Jean took the liberty to fart very loudly on it, but I love being a piece of shit.

“First of all, thank you. And I want to have a serious conversation.” Now don't get me wrong. I'm a great friend. The greatest! And it takes a lot to rustle my jimmies, to tickle my inner Satan. Definitely a contrast to who I was in middle school, when breathing too loudly warranted a bulldog attack. It also didn't help that I was extremely overweight, so being called a “fatso” was enough to get me suspended for a week. I was _that_ dangerous fat kid, with a phat ass ;) (not really, I cried a lot at night and thought I'd never have someone touch my willy). But Armin knew he'd done something absolutely r00de to piss me off, and in this case, I wasn't fat anymore so sitting on him was no longer a threat.

He froze, terrified of where this was going. “Um, go ahead.” He didn't want me to go ahead, but no. No fucking way was I going to let this go.  

“You're still logged in to my Grindr account–”

“Eren–”

“–and you fucking asked Thomas for nudes.” He squeaked. “And you want to know how I know? He came up to me today, during class. Asked when I was going to return the favor.”

There's many things that should be known about Armin. Not only was he lowkey rude, he's the thirstiest thing I've ever met. Everybody thinks he's sweet, hard working, incredibly smart. Which he was, but he's such a butt sometimes, he can make anyone cry. He's made me cry, has earned a single tear from Mikasa. Made Jean a hermit for a week. And yeah, it wasn't smart to stay logged into his phone, but **_wow_** !

“I mean, he has a nice bod!”

I stopped breathing. “He's my _TA_. He has control over my lab grades, asshole.”

He laughed sardonically. “You fucked a TA before. And gave a RA a handjob.”

“That's not the point! Pass me the Pepto.” Today was stressful enough, but I really wanted to murder him slowly, so I made sure to stare at his crotch. Because there’s one thing Armin’s definitely not capable of, and it’s realizing his dick is practically flashing through his jeans or shorts. I could tell he fucked up his laundry because the onesie shrunk and clung to him a little more, hence the outline of his entire dick was there for the world to see. For me to see.

“What? You keep looking at me.”

I almost choked. “Look. Right there, buddy,” I said, never tearing my gaze away from The Sheath. He followed my stare, and his face immediately caught on fire. “I love the fact that you’re paper white. I really do.” Grabbing a carton of milk and placing it on the counter made me feel like calling my mom. But I wasn’t in the mood to be yelled at.

His hands covered his face, still red to the tips of his ears. “Eren, you’ve known me since we were four. Why? Why are you not a Turkish delight?”

“Shut the fuck up. That joke is old, and so am I.” We rarely had time to hang out, mostly due to the fact I was usually working and going to class, or taking care of Isabel. Ever since she turned fourteen, my mom has been insisting for me to mentor her. What she would learn from me, I don’t know. All Isabel excels at is taking the worst pictures of me and turning them into memes. The only reason I know today's lingo was due to the fact that she likes to randomly add me to her friends’ Instagram group chat. It's a bit disturbing, I know.

Armin scowled. “You’re lactose intolerant, and you’re still drinking milk. Even after you made me come here with Pepto Bismol?”

“I ran out of Lactaid, and Jean owes me, _so._ ” Jean was rarely home, which I’m really thankful for. If he wasn't at his internship, he’s having really loud sex with Marco in his room. They can get it on regardless of their surroundings, which I consider a virtue. Marco gets brownie points for exhausting Jean long enough to let me do my schoolwork.

“The question is, would Big Sean do this?” Armin asked somberly, and the thought made me want to take a shit on his face. His obsession with Big Sean never ceased to amaze anyone, but who am I to judge? I have Matthew Gray Gubler and Mikasa has her Korean dramas/Jung Kyung Ho. Instead of saying something rude, I placed my bowl of cereal on the coffee table and logged into Netflix. “Aren't you supposed to be studying? Or reviewing applications for the cashier position at your store?” He asked, baby blue eyes begging for attention.

Oh, Armin. You know my name, not my story.

“Does anything really matter in the end? In this whole exponential and limitless universe, I'm dying very slowly as we speak–”

“Don't start. Go bleach your asshole.”

I laughed, suddenly reminded why I missed him. He barely had time for his own life, and here we are. Because of my digestive system.

“Which one? Mulan or Courage the Cowardly Dog?”

His nose wrinkled. “I don't want commitment. Mulan,” he said breezily, onesie exposing his dick once more. I was tempted to call Mikasa over, just to see her in person, but I remembered she was working.

Two jobs, work study, and the Beyonce Dance Club. She attends the University of Sina, only twenty minutes away, so sometimes we have to show extreme thirst to make her drive all the way here.

-

There were many things to know about me. And none of them are great. I've said this before, and will always be there to remind anyone. Because I'm lactose intolerant, and because I loved to live on the edge, diarrhea never bothered me.

People tend to have an intimate relationship with their shit for some reason, and I totally respect that. So I was a little pissed because the barista didn't put any almond milk after a large gulp of my latte turned into a quiet gurgle in my stomach.

Hange grinned when I started to look queasy, putting his hand on mine as if I was dying on a hospital bed. So, he's kind of important. “Long time no see.”

“You know how much I hate Starbucks,” I said, pushing my drink towards him. “I'm broke and all I can afford is water. Because it’s free.”

The crumbs from his scone were everywhere, and I couldn't help but notice a large scratch on his glasses. “Levi’s mom's cat did that. Erwin thinks I deserved it.”

“You did.”

He was my RA when I was a freshman. (He's also the RA I gave a handjob to at a frat party, his nudes reside in the ‘sin’ album of my phone) “You're so mean, Eren. But did you bring what I asked for?”

I pressed my mouth shut. “You make it sound like it's illegal. Don’t do that. Anyway, this notebook has the theoretical notes, divided between integral and differentiating calculus. This file folder,” I explained, “has all the practice worksheets and packets. The ones labeled with a red post-it are the answer keys. Uh, let’s see, I have some notes about using the graphing calculator, but they're for TI-89. Not sure what model you have.” My mouth felt tired and he continued to stare at me, probably not registering a word. Great. I'm not a math whiz, but I couldn't afford to take the class again, so I fucked Calculus and sucked everything out of it in a way that terrified even Mikasa.

Hange sighed and took a sip from my latte. “I hate math,” he said gruffly, eyeing his phone screen. “But it's a core requirement so who am I to refuse?” He hesitated, not sure what to say next, which was really unlike him. “Honestly, I thought you weren't going to show up, so Levi’s also on his way with his notes. We can hang out after this.”

“Why the fuck would I not show up?”

“You're always busy! Or something. I'm a desperate anthropology major, my friend.” This was not how I planned to spend my day off, but :^/

Still, I don't blame him, it did cross my mind not to come. “Hange, I have a lot of shit to do, like I really wish I was kidding,” I said, trying not to sound harsh. People always said I was a little mean, so I tried to tone it down a little sometimes.

“Levi’s like thirty seconds away. So like, you should hang out with us.” Clearly being an asshole wasn’t an option, so I stayed put. Still, I was tired of being cooped up in my abyss, being fucking useless and occasionally jacking it in the dark, my laptop’s volume low, worrying about work, the fact that I ran out of milk, my term bill, and I don’t know. “Eren?”

I rubbed my forehead. “What?”

“I told you Grindr says Levi’s a few seconds away and you didn’t even blink. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Wait. No, I take that back. I’m gonna sort out my funds at the bookstore tomorrow at three thirty, but if he doesn't come in five minutes–”

He laughed, and I considered leaving his ass here, alone and taking my notes with me. Of course I wasn’t going to, but still. “You’re a total control freak, it’s scary. Oh looky there,” he wiggled his brows. Levi’s signature cologne immediately fucked the air, but Levi looked a little fucked himself. His nose was red, bags so dark they put mine to shame, which was definitely something.

Yikes.

“You got a new piercing?” I asked, not wanting to know where that money came from. Three dollars to my name at the moment.

He sighed, slamming his body on the chair, his soul begging for the sweet release of death. “I was fucked up. A little. Not sure if it suits me or not, but it is what it is.”

“You look good though,” I said, and I meant it. I mean, Levi’s always been attractive, even with his emo hair in high school. But now he went platinum blond, looking completely different from his dark and deadly vibe. His ear piercings were balanced, and the subtle stud on his nose emphasized his jaw line. Honestly, all of Mikasa’s relatives were hot as fuck. Her mom, an absolute motherfucking gem, y’all.  

He crinkled his nose, eyeing me down like he did when we were kids. I was always fucking terrified of him, and now that we’re both old, I find it kind of funny that we’re both drowning as Adults™. “Did the septum hurt?”

I immediately rubbed the hoop. “It did, but I got over it. Sort of weird, I don’t know.”

Hange hummed. “I’m considering it, but a bitch broke.”

“That’s because you spend your money on stupid shit,” Levi said flatly, rolling his eyes. “And I only came because you said you’d take me to BK, so.”

“That’s what I should be sayin’ actually. Where are the notes?” When Hange lowered his voice, it meant danger lingered in the horizon, and hands down, I lived for drama.

Levi shrugged. “I need help with biology. We all need help. This whole transferring progress is fisting me and I didn't even ask for it this time.” I choked, Armin’s dick flashing through my eyelids.

“What?”

“I transferred from USin to here three semesters ago, but a few credits didn't really go through. So I have to take the science pre-rec again.”

Hange nodded, pressing his lips tightly. “Ew. Sucks to suck. But at least the sky matches your life.” Agreed. There were days when the weather was shitty, like today, but I love fall. I would suck fall’s ass, rub pumpkin spice anything over my body, except my skin was super dry, like my texts. What I didn't like was the constant shriveling of my dick, it would cave so deeply into my body every time the breeze hit my crotch. Nobody likes that. And today that’s what’d I’d be getting.

Why I had this thought, it's because I was busy looking at the near bare trees that I didn't notice Levi glaring. “Well, are you just going to sit there? We have a date, Eren. Hange is treating us to real American cuisine.” I missed his humor. And I missed Mikasa, so I’ll text her back, obviously. I never text back, and it’s not like I don’t want to, it’s just that life is fisting me as well so I don’t remember other small things. My mother would kill me if I didn’t call her at least once a week. This is what fall does to me, it turns me into a big ball of nostalgia.

We walked out of Starbucks, the stench of overpriced coffee still penetrating my jacket. Everything on campus wasn’t within walking distance, so I really was not prepared for this. Love me like a love song, this isn’t nice. “Are we really walking there?” I asked, praying for an answer I’d want to hear.

“Yeah.  I’m not getting my car from the shop until seven, so walking it is,” Levi managed to say through his scarf. Um. Why did I agree to this? My thighs were on fire and prickled from the cold ass wind, like _zamn!_ With a Z, not D (insert winking emoji here).

“Burger King isn’t worth this walk,” I yelled.

Levi scowled. “You think I don’t know that? My balls are caving in as we speak. We die like men.” Great. I kept my fists stuffed in my sweater, aware that my gloves were at Mikasa’s dorm. What a fuckening. We walked in silence, except for the screaming on Hange’s behalf every time a breeze whistled by frigidly. The neon OPEN never made me this happy, I gladly opened the door and rushed inside, savoring the warmth. My hands were stiff and dry. Please come back to life.

“Yes, thank you, capitalism. For this heat,” Levi whispered, rubbing his palms together. “Here,” he said, handing me his gloves. “I'd give you lotion but it's at my place, your hands look sad.”

Oh trust me, they are. Glancing at my phone, I noticed the messages from Hannes.

 **Hannes** : _the apps are in, want to look them over or conduct the interviews_

 **Hannes:** _??_

 **Me:** _I'll conduct the interviews. Leave them on my desk and I'll start next week :)_

That's settled. Take that off my list of things to do, meaning I have time for a run. I sat down, loving the cushion for my butt. Levi whistled as Hange scrapped some quarters from his Link wallet. “Okay, ny'all-”

“Don't do that,” Levi cut off.

“Okay, y'all, I have enough for three Whoppers. No cheese though.” I shrugged. The endless garbage I've consumed as a human being has made me immune. We scooted over to make him go order, and my legs finally stopped shaking. Levi didn't stop staring at me, which was a bit unsettling. This was the most time we've spent together this year.

“So about the chlamydia-” he began.

“Let's put that behind us, please. You still owe me twelve bucks though.” Levi choked.

“Okay, Eren. Hot and demanding, things do change I guess.” I dismissed the first part.

“What? You want to talk about that mullet you had going on in eighth grade?” He cringed. And he still looked :3c

“Don't. The amount of people who thought I was cool and edgy…” It was my turn to feel embarrassed.

“I was one of those people, y’know? I fucking idolized you. If Mikasa was perfection, imagine what _you_ were!” His eyes squinted and I could tell his face wasn't pink from the cold. The secondhand embarrassment must be brutal. “I'm so fucking serious, I was scared shitless to talk to you, especially when I was fat.”

“I mean I noticed. But I thought it was because I was Mikasa’s older brother, and then high school happened. Jesus Christ, after you joined wrestling and did soccer...you were one of the first people who made me realize what a raging homo I was. Deadass.” We laughed hard, especially when I told him about the first time I sucked dick (it was Jean’s, we've been through this before), and what a mistake it was. We knew Hange was taking too long to order, but he came with the tray and a mountain of ketchup. About time, but lowkey still wanted to talk a little longer.

“So,” he grinned. “Look at the cashier. Her name’s Moblit. And she didn't charge me extra for the cheese.” I rolled my eyes because I definitely knew where this was going. “She's so…”

“I don't care. I'm hungry, hand it over,” Levi said flatly. I did look though, and Moblit was pretty hot.

“Out of your league, man,” I whistled. Hange scoffed, unwrapping is burger with more vigor than necessary.

“No, she's not. And you're out of my league, but I scored with you, didn't I?” I stopped chewing. It's about time I clarified.

“First of all, I was drunk and high. And secondly, I was a freshman, so I was willing to fuck anything and put anything in my body.” Levi only looked at me in horror. Honest confessions at Burger King, what a surprise. The shame in me subsided. “You also twerked on me, and I was dying to bust.” I had become what I hated the most, but I haven't had these conversations in the longest, besides with Armin at two AM. What was I, god’s mistake? Let's also clarify the other situation here. So I lost all that weight, and all, but I seriously hated myself for a very long time. Of course now I don't (as much), but I hate myself for different reasons. I am human trash, but the kind that I love if that makes sense. I loved being a baby slut, and I loved fucking and not really investing myself in a person. But now that I'm close to graduating, and I care about shit more, well. I don't know where I was going with this to be honest. I JUST CARE, I GIVE A FUCK.

Which is great.

I can look Jean in the eye and not really ache grossly like I used to. It took a while for that to happen, because we were on and off, in love but not really. I knew him, _still_ know him, better than anyone. I know he has a thing for scented candles, and he has three freckles in his right cheek. But I'm also happy he found Marco, because why not see him fucking gay as hell?

I'm a changed piece of shit with better taste in cereal. “Levi?”

We both looked at him since he also seemed strangely pensive. “I'm thinking about a job.”

“What's going on?”

He cleared his threat. “My work-study got fucked up. So I'm thinking about finding a job around here, but I'll probably work with Erwin at Chipotle.” Not bad. I've tried getting a job there and have been rejected three times. So I've been going to Qdoba. Petty, but it is what it is.

“I'm sure you'll find something,” I said.

-

It was 2:54 AM when I got a call from Hange. My week was going great. The interviews were scheduled, I ran ten miles, finished revising two papers, annotated, got a new succulent, and had fro-yo with Mikasa. That's right. Living the dream. Had my shit together.

But it wasn't Hange. “Eren, I knew you'd pick up.” I rummaged around for my glasses.

“Annie?” My voice came out hoarse, and instantly regretted everything. But I was a light sleeper, a blessing and a curse. I could hear the loud music and could only imagine the pungent smell that only belonged to frat parties.

“Can you do me a favor? Hange is very, uh, drunk. I am, too so…” She stopped talking to yell at someone, which meant a hardcore game of beer pong was in session.

“You–you want me to pick you up?” I begged for death. She mumbled something I didn't quite catch.

“If you can. He's twerking on everyone.” I did not want to go out in this cold, but nobody would let me live this down next week. My pajamas were thicc ;) so I grabbed my boots and keys.

“Okay. Which frat?” Zamn. I used to have a car but he died a year ago, hence Uber is everything, sadly.

“Reiner’s.” She hung up. Ah. Wowza. Um. I walked around the living room, not sure if I even had money in my checking account.

“Jean!” I knocked hard, knowing his ass can take ten years to wake up. Three minutes later and the temptation to just call Annie and tell her I couldn't was very, _very_ strong. To my surprise, it was Marco who opened, eyes drooping and clearly hating me for interrupting a luxury college students barely have.

“What's up?”

“Uh. I need a favor. Can you order me an Uber? I'll pay you back tomorrow.” It used to be awkward between us, since it’s pretty jarring to most people when you tell them you live with your first and long-time committed ex-boyfriend.  Yawning, Marco motioned me to come in. Jean was clearly not home yet.

“Where are you heading?” He asked groggily. _Fuck you_ was left unsaid.

“Reiner’s.” Now everybody in our 'squad' knows Reiner. He's that one guy that really knows how to party, to make you think being shitfaced is the best thing ever, and also has muscles of pure steel. The reason I say this is because he's the reason I don't twerk or sin at frat parties. Because you become a meme. And Isabel gives me enough pain about that.

-

Four self destructive thoughts later and I was outside, waiting for these damn sluts to show up. Annie helped, more like carried, Hange on her shoulder. It always shocked me to remember that she was pretty strong and could actually pin me down. When we were dating, she'd do it all the time because she knew I liked that shit. Anyway. So I had the money to get to Hange's place, and luckily for Annie, she lives in his complex too. Only upstairs.

"The Uber's coming in five minutes, so we should all be good," I said. Hange drunk snorted, that ugly way people do when they have hella snot and saliva lodged in their throat. I wanted to kill him. Then myself, because I have work tomorrow.

"That's hunky-dory," Annie sighed. I forgot she does that sometimes. Uses cool words that make me contemplate the meaning of the English language. "It's been a while since I've seen you. You look good."

"Really?" Death suits me I guess.

"Yeah. I mean, you looked hot with long hair, but now. You're pulling that hair cut. Thought you'd look like a twink."

Hange sneezed. "Mm. I agree."

I raised an eyebrow. "You don't even know what we're talking about." I bet he doesn't even know where he is.

"Yes...I do. It's about Annie being a Jehovah's Witness, right?" Oh. I touched my chest. Annie's face, the very expression she has now, it was eggactly the same as the time when her parents saw the massive hickey I gave her. And she's fucking paper white, so imagine me, praying to Jesus Christ and begging for forgiveness in Russian.

"Really? You're a Jehovah's Witness?" She covered her face.

"Just trying it out. I've been conflicted recently."

I snorted. "Clearly." Luckily the Uber got here before she could murder me.

I'm not against Jesus Christ. Although my reservations for organized religion disappoint my father greatly, considering I'm not exactly the perfect Muslim son (when he was Muslim, he's Christian now), I can be spiritual. My spiritually consists of Hot Cheetos, frozen yogurt, and Danny Phantom. I'm thinking this because, well Annie's never been into Jesus, so kinda surprised, not gonna lie.

 **Hange** : lmfaooo u so werent expectin tht

 **Me** : why are u texting me in the car?? she's here

 **Me** : literally next to me. and so are you

 **Hange** : so u want me 2 use my mouth... ooh erin sooo hot

Anyway.

When we got to the off campus apartments, I could tell she was too embarrassed to look at me. We awkwardly said bye, and now it was my turn to drag him upstairs. Hange can make me regret existing in less that five minutes, that by the time we reached his door, my arm fell asleep. "You so fucking owe me after this. Prepare for my wrath."

He ignored my threat. "How are you getting home?"

"Flying. My dick can get hard and teleport, too." It was four AM. I hated everything.

He leaned on the wall. "I'm deadass. Take my bed, or some shit. I'll pay for your ride tomorrow." I finally found the key that actually opened the goddamn door. Brendon Urie, breathe life into me, baby.

"You mean Levi will pay for my ride?" Okay, I'm quite aware I was being a piece of shit. If Armin was here, he'd slap the 'nonsense' out of me. We stepped in, my soul glad I found the light switch in a heartbeat. The living room was surprisingly clean, but I knew this was Levi's work. He had a habit of leaving lavender incense at night.

"It's hot as hell in here," Hange tried to whisper, but of course it sounded horribly loud. He was right though, it was like a sauna. "Levi probably turned up the heat again. Swear to god he's a reptile." Stumbling, and me being there to drag him, we made it to his room. I helped him with his shoes, since that wasn't a talent he possessed in his current state of mind.     

"I'm gonna sleep, and if you ever wake me up again at this ungodly hour because you're a drunk fuck, I'll slit your throat."

"I love you, Eren."

-

I've never slept like a baby. But something about this couch, it was great. Like all couches, it probably witnessed a lot of sin, but it was soft. I didn't know what time it could possibly be, but the smell of coffee and something frying woke me up. I peeped and saw Levi shuffling around the kitchenette, his hair all over the place.

"Look who's awake. And shirtless in my apartment." I could tell he recently rose from the dead, the bags underneath his eyes less intense than the last time I saw him.

"It was literally 90 degrees in here," I said, looking around for my shirt.

“Yeah, I know. What are you doing?" He looked concerned. Uh-

"Looking for my tank. It's black-" He waved his hand dismissively.

"No need for that. Walk around shirtless." I laughed awkwardly. It's not like I was ripped, if my stretch marks had anything to say about that. But I indulged him because he had a plate of pancakes and eggs on the counter for me. The apartment continued to boil, but it was great considering Hange never offered me a blanket. It was too hot to even wear a layer of clothing, and the only reason I didn't completely strip should be self-explanatory. "I'm surprised you don't have a hangover, actually." Levi was always perfect at everything, when we were younger it used to piss me off. But he's great at adulting too, because my capacity in the kitchen doesn't go beyond a bowl of cereal.

"What?"

He added four heaping spoons of sugar in his mug. "You partied with him last night, didn't you? How was it?"    

I divided my pancake into fourths. "Oh, I wished that happened. He called me, well, Annie did-but I brought them both home. And I was too tired and broke to head back home." The coffee was perfect. If this was my morning every day, I wouldn't seek solace in Netflix. Levi continued to drink his coffee, his muscles were :^)c. It's been a while since I've had a real cup of coffee, or actually sat down with someone in the morning. Jean's usually too busy to socialize with anyone besides Marco, Armin's at work by six AM, and I have no friends after that.

"Do you want me to drive you back?" Levi asked, after I cleared my plate. So funny I can wash dishes at someone else's house, but leave a shithole mess in my sink. They had good soap. "You didn't have to do that, y'know?"

I shrugged. "I have work in half an hour. You hate messes. We're both happy."

"Alrighty then."

-

He dropped me off, and I've never been so happy to be home. Since I only had less than ten minutes to get ready, he also insisted on waiting outside and driving me to work. Grabbed my uniform quickly and rinsed my mouth with Listerine. Clearly, today was going to be a disgusting day, and I braced myself for the fact that I had to visit my mom after work. She requires weekly meetings, just to see if y'know, I'm alive. Don't really blame her, either.

Levi looked calm and a little out of place, if I had to say so myself. His hair seemed white in the sun, but it was still too early for me to even _attempt_ to be attractive. I have been the assistant manager for over a year now. It's not that grueling, sometimes I try to be Dwight from The Office. Kiss Hannes' ass and all that. The store shouldn't be that busy today, but people love to be disgusting.

When the weather wasn't dick-shriveling, I would just walk for fifteen minutes. But because it was dick shriveling weather, this car ride was everything. Literally only had five minutes to get dressed, so I left my tank on and just stuffed myself in the white polo, apron, pinned my nametag on. “You don't mind just leaving me here in this corner.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” It was less awkward than I imagined. Talking to Levi used to give me severe anxiety, but character development, right? I speed walked, noting at once that someone hasn't cleaned the glass doors just yet. Of course. Now I like to think of myself as an okay manager. You can joke and shit around, but work has to be done, and over the past few months, I've grown more comfortable with firing people. It used to make me feel like actual garbage, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. There's people who want a paycheck without the sweat, or those who try to be smart and take longer breaks than they have to.

As of right now, I've been keeping my eye on moving Connie away from the tech department and into deli, since Sasha happens to catch most of his attention than actual customers. I said hi to some people before heading to the break room.

“Who touched my hot pockets?”

Sasha stopped pouring coffee. “Um. I don't know, it could be anyone, don't you think?”

 **I'm not stupid!** Armin would beg to differ, but I know who took my hot pockets. “Right. Well when I find out, they'll be sorry. For eternity.”

Sasha squeaked. “I'll keep an eye out. Haha.”

Haha, my ass. This isn't over, she won't see it coming. I clocked in, and kind of dreaded the paperwork that would be in my “office.” Emphasis on the quotation marks because it used to be a supply closet. Lo and behold, a stack of papers. Interviews. I only have a problem with applications when I’m the one in charge of hiring. Reviewing apps wasn’t my forte, but interviews weren’t that bad. Mostly because my bullshit detector (thanks to Isabel) has been honed to perfection. There are people who think that embellishing their previous position automatically gets them hired. But there was only one application on the table. This Thomas Wagner got the Hannes approval. Interviews here were usually just a formality at this point, but it’s a lot more substantial to put a face to the application. I waited for Thomas to show up, and plotted my revenge.

-

I loved my family. The majority of the time. But at this very present moment, I’ve never wanted to impale Isabel as much as I do now. “So?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

I said nothing. Silence is a weapon, children.

“You kind of have to, don’t ya, boy?”

For the past three months, Isabel has been begging my mother to cut her hair and dye it red. The thing is, my mother is the literal definition of a rock. Great when you need support, terrible when you want something your way. “I fucking hate you. I thought eyebrows were supposed to be cousins _at least_ , yours look like shit.”

She gasped. “Fuck you.”

So while I was kind enough to go to her stupid after school parent-teacher conference, she put gum, a large wad of it in her hair. And when I mean a wad, she clumped it so it looked like a giant shit ball. She's fourteen! What the fuck? “I’m not taking you to the salon.”

“Yes, or I’ll tell mom about that septum. _And_ the tattoo. I’ll share a picture of you sleeping, the one I took last year where you were cuddling that teddy bear. Or even that picture when you did the body sushi thing for Mikasa. She’ll never forgive you for that. Right on Facebook, where she can see it. And your friends. _Mom’s friends_.”

Look, baby girl. “She knows about the piercing. And the tattoo. If you post the body sushi shit, I can report you for nudity. Nothing can touch me.” As for the bear pic, well, people know me. Wouldn’t really be a big shocker.

She narrowed her eyes. “I deserve it. I got straight As this entire semester.”

“A straight A bitch doesn't pull a dumbass move to get a haircut,” I sighed. My head was starting to hurt. Will the Lord save me? Still. If I get her home like this, my mom would impale _me_.

“I'll send both the sushi pic and bear pic to Mikasa,” she said flatly.

I was actually going to take her anyway. “You're paying for everything. Call the cab.”

-

I have never seen someone so happy to see clumps of hair fall to the floor. Every snip and clear exasperation from the stylist made Isabel’s dream pixie cut come true. I could imagine my dad stroking his beard and frowning in his study as his daughter explained the situation. He wouldn't be surprised if this happened to me, but Isabel was the smart child. She could balance her love life with Farlan and school and track.

And me?

I played with my phone to kill time (something I'm exceptionally good at), that by the time Isabel was done, it was definitely jarring to see her long baby shit brown hair turn to a fiery red bald eagle. But–

“Not bad.” She had style, I'll give her that. I refused to ask how much she paid and drove her home aka another cab.

Not much happened after two hours. But at exactly 9:45 PM (my mother gets home from the clinic at 9:30), she called me. Carla Jaeger could breathe loudly like the little girl from _The_ _Ring_ , only it's more terrifying because my mother wouldn't hesitate to throw me down a well to teach me a lesson. “ _Eren_ _Jaeger. You're my first son.”_

Homework can't be done, so I took off my glasses as well to prepare myself. “Yes, I can assure you I am.”

 _“Then. Why does my daughter look like a red sea urchin?_ ” She asked crisply. Ah. She's good, should've thought of that insult myself.

“Yikes.”

_“Eren!”_

“It wasn't my fault. Ask her!”

She sighed. Guess it's genetic. _“Did she pay for it herself?”_

I snorted. “Mom, I'm her older brother, not Buddha.”

_“She could've cut it. But the red, geez.”_

“Mom. It's hair, not her life. Plus when she's thirty we'll look back at this and L-O-L.”

_“We can what?”_

“Nothing, nothing. Just saying, it's better to give her permission than making her do it behind your back. She really wanted it.” I couldn't believe I was taking that idiot’s side right now. But our parents are old, so small shit like this is a big deal. I remember when I came out (they found me kissing Jean in a non friendly way on our porch), they were very confused, but not disgusted like I thought they'd be. My older aunts and uncles were, but mom seemed disappointed that I didn't ever say anything sooner.

 _“Alright. You're right. I hate you sometimes, honey.”_ She hung up before I could say anything else.

-

Classes dragged on, life continued, I died. Only “Stupid Hoe” by Nicki Minaj kept me alive.

And then my world changed. Not really, Mikasa texted me.

 **Mikasa** : I love Isabel. So much <3

Followed by a picture of me, posing Rose in Titanic style, sunflowers covering my dick, sushi on my hairless chest and lined on the navel. I waxed my whole body for that, and I remembered every fallen follicle. The preparation was hell, I've never wanted to stand up and be body slammed by John Cena so much in my life. The reason I did this, was well, stupid. Mikasa can convince me to do anything, if I must be honest. Only I didn't really mind that she had this picture of me. What followed was sad.

 **Jean** : new wank material 4me n Marco

 **Krista** : Omg Eren

 **Connie** : ur my manager sonnn lol

 **Ymir** : Boiiiiiii

And the last person I expected to be on the old group chat:

 **Levi** : Saucy.

I put my phone down. Because the irony of ironies, Levi in all his glory, sat in front of me. “Okay, well. My name is Eren and I'm the assistant manager here. So Levi, thank you for applying.”

He blinked, clearly confused as to why I spoke to him like I was Christian Grey. He removed his piercings for this interview, and I knew he knew I knew this. _Wait_ , I mouthed. Hannes’ footsteps faded and left the office area. “Eren, you're a great actor,” he said dryly.

Zamn. Every time I see him, I always get reminded of how hot he was. Not gonna lie, I like stalking his and Erwin’s IG a lot. I'm weak. “You've seen me bare,” I wheezed.

His hand covered his mouth. “Fortunately.” A frown quickly wormed itself on his face. “Anyway, sorry about that. Uh, it's not weird, right? You being _my_ manager now, and we know each other.”

“I separate work and play very well. Here you're an employee, outside, we eat BK.” I smiled. “Uh, what times are you able to work? I can arrange your schedule and give you a call,” I explained.

“No problem. I brought a copy of the time slots I'm available.” He slipped a piece of folded paper from his pocket, still crisp and clean.

Amazing. “Oh. Well it looks like we'll have the same schedule, which is awesome. There's a cashier vacancy for those shifts.”

His surprise was cute. Hot people, the destruction of my Dick Thirst. With his usual, “Alrighty then,” I watched his ass in those pants leave my supply closet/office.

-

My runs through my favorite trail reminded me of better days, when my ass was less hairy, and Mikasa never told me and I quote, “I fucked your bitch in Walmart flip flops.” For the record, she was right. She was very drunk and Jean was on cloud nine.

This was a long time ago, back when I had more time in my hands and I used to run a lot more. Run and hit the gym. Those days were great, but lowkey dying a lot more because of the immense amount of shit I have to do.

Life was endless fisting.

-

Amazed and surprised because I barely had to trail around Levi on the register. He quickly got the groove of things, handling more customers efficiently than most of his coworkers. _What can't he do?_

Hiring Levi was clearly a great decision, but that face looked too good in this shitty lighting. Montage, y'all: Levi bending down to pick up the spare change customers had left behind, Levi’s thick neck as he drank from his water bottle (he only likes Poland Springs), Levi loosening his collar after the heater was cranked, Levi breathing basically. I've never wanted to go on Grindr so quickly, just explode (orgasm intensely) and come back strong. This had to be the longest period of time in my life in which I was absolutely single. The last time I even slept with somebody was a few months ago, one of Annie's cousins. She was something else, Jesus Christ.

To quench this terrible Levi thirst that has only gotten stronger since I was fourteen, I decided to look at Nick, an old guy who's been here forever and whose hatred for me intensified each day. Trust me, buddy, it's mutual. Simply looking at him made my dick simmer down. Honestly, fuck him and I was compelled to head to my personalized supply closet. And I know what people wonder. Do people masturbate in their offices? Yes. Yes, they do. Me included.

But break was amazing.

A shit load of time later, Levi sat next to me in the break room and I didn't complain. My terrible excuse for food suddenly became the best thing I've seen. Making eye contact with attractive people for long periods of time was always challenging. I forgot Levi loved eye contact.

“So you watch Netflix during breaks?”

I hee-hawed awkwardly. Pretty sad when it's said like that. “Uh, yeah. I'm not really exciting.”

“Do you want some?” He pointed at his pasta, which looked like Jesus compared to my Satanic hot pocket.

“Yeah. As long as it's not milk, I'm down.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you're lactose intolerant.” There was some sauce on his chin. The words that followed started everything. I could've done anything at this point. I could've pulled the classic gay move and wiped it with my finger or napkin. Or say, “I'm not intolerant to you, though.”

But no.

No.

“When a man has too much sauce, he is lost. But the same man can be lost in the sauce.”

Fuck. Fuck Isabel. But the damage was done.

“Holy shit,” he said.

Was this love? 


	2. Fried or Fertilized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taco Bell Corp., a subsidiary of Yum! Brands, Inc. (NYSE: YUM), is the nation's leading Mexican-inspired quick service restaurant (QSR) brand. From breakfast to late night, Taco Bell serves made-to-order and customizable tacos and burritos, among other craveable choices, and is the first QSR restaurant to offer American Vegetarian Association (AVA)-certified menu items. Taco Bell and its more than 350 franchise organizations proudly serve over 42 million customers each week through nearly 7,000 restaurants across the nation, as well as through its mobile, desktop and delivery ordering services. Overseas, Taco Bell has over 250 restaurants, with plans to add 2,000 more restaurants internationally within the next decade. The brand encourages its fans to "Live Más" and connects with them through sports, gaming and new music via its Feed The Beat® music program. Taco Bell also provides education opportunities and serves the community through its nonprofit organization, the Taco Bell® Foundation™, and connects fans with their passions through programs such as the Live Más Scholarship program. In 2016, Taco Bell was named as one of Fast Company's Top 10 Most Innovative Companies in the World.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](http://dicktatorial.tumblr.com/)  
>  I am so sick of looking at this, thirteen pages of hell and ao3 was being a SLUT. If you find any mistakes, let me know pls, I'm super tired and I have a paper to write. I will edit/revise this a week from now.

The previous question asked was caused by my thirst. But my mind cleared itself just a bit to remember that I have a job, but I was also on break so I could do anything. Not really, I just tried to forget the conversation altogether with those corded thick arms of his. Yeah, his arms spoke to me, too. It's called a fantasy, children, you learn to have them when you're an adult and boning is all you can think about when you haven't boned in a decade. I might as well be called Sister Eren, declare my vows to God and the Holy Church because the only serious relationship I have is with my hand. And even that, well it's been a while since I, uh, you know, released my essence.  

I opened Grindr.                               

“You're still on the clock, y'know that, right?”

Fuck you, Connie. “Thanks, Connie.” I pocketed my phone, and looked at his department. Returns stacked and not arranged. He noticed that I noticed, and all I did was stare at him until he squirmed. That's right. I kept walking, glad that my shift would soon be over and I wouldn't have to deal with a severe case of blue balls. Returns, customer complaints, and Selena Gomez on repeat, I was prepared to die in my supply closet. The only thing that gave me life was when somebody dared to question, quite aggressively question may I add, an employee in a self-entitled-the-customer-is-always-right kind of way. I am the biggest and fakest motherfucker to exist. I was kind of waiting for someone to complain about Levi's bitch face.

“He says the coupon is expired! And that it doesn't apply to what I wanted to buy anyway.” She’s a hemorrhoid. A bane to humanity.

Murder me. “Can I see the coupon, ma’am?”

“He was very rude, giving me attitude.” I smiled apologetically, wondering when my life became a depressing Animal Planet documentary. Maybe I should be a sugar baby. Never again will I watch my Hot Pockets disappear.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of you.” She was a mom, what is this lady doing! I am Sister Eren, what am I doing? Am I that deprived that I have to get off on menopause? “Well, it looks like this coupon will only work for the Always Infinity pads. Not those, those are maxi.” She frowned.

“Let me see.” Reading and comprehension go hand in hand, love it when they don't read the fine print. Her lips were puckered as she squinted. “Oh. But you can't apply that to this?” She persisted.

“Unfortunately, no. I'm sorry.” I'm not.

“Oh, it's fine, thank you.”

“Do you need anything else, if you do, let me know.”

“N-No, thanks.” She left with her bags and I held my smile until she walked out. This strength that I have, am I using it for good? Or evil? I turned around to see Levi, his brows raised. Not really sure how to face him, since the break incident was fresh in my mind.

“Wow. Your customer service side is so terrifying. You aroused a woman in front of me.” He forgot about it, but I couldn't look below his eyes without fearing for my life. Those arms.

“It's part of the job,” I said. This day had been so slow, but my saddie sad sads must have shown because Levi seemed concerned.

“I'll drop you off home.” He said it so seriously, his eyes squinting like an anime character preparing for battle. Bless him, he's like my fairy god driver or something. “It's cold out, plus I'm paying you those twelve bucks in rides.” I forgot he owed me money. That's the power of being attractive, shit slides. Armin wrote a paper about it as a bet to Erwin. Don't even get me started on Erwin. Erwin is more than just Chris Evans. He was that guy your mom wanted you to marry just so she could live vicariously through your marriage, your neighbor would never move just to see him weed the garden, Mary Jane Watson perfect in the eyes of everyone, including mine. He attracted men and women, roused penises from the dead, I don't know. But he's perfect, and Armin loved him like the father he never had. If Armin had a list of people he loved, it would look like this:

  1. Big Sean
  2. Erwin Smith
  3. His grandpa



Where am I on that list, who knows? But they never dated, because Erwin was straight and Armin was with Isle for the past five years. Plus, we all know about Erwin's thing with Petra, that straight people nonsense that usually says “lol we don't like labels, but we're deffff exclusive, don't fuck my manz”.

I was thinking about this as I clocked out, and trailed behind Levi, who cracked his back. “Are you hungry?” He asked, fumbling around for his keys. His car, a black Ford pickup, was spotless and I knew his most prized baby, maybe number one on his list. It was fucking freezing, and I pulled my zipper as high as it could go.

“Only if you are,” I said, rubbing my hands.

He gave a short laugh as we let everything warm up. “I'll take you for Subway, if you want.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Wow. The twenty-four hour one is close to my place, it's almost twelve, maybe Mike is working. We could get a free drink.” Mike knew when to be a kind soul. We met when he complimented my cologne, says I smell snazzy all the time. Love me a man who appreciates me.

“Okay, Subway it is.” The cold no longer bothered me, in fact, it was getting too hot in here. I almost considered turning the heater off, but Levi is like Mr. Krabs. He hates anybody who fucks with his thermostat, but I wasn't trying to sweat at a time like this.

“It sure is hot,” I said offhandedly. Wow, Sister Eren. How casual.

He noticed too, and cracked a grin. Can he look any more attractive? “You can turn it down if you want,” he offered. I did, and feeling a little bold, turned up the volume as well.

“This the radio?”

“CD. Fucking love that song.” Retro by Gambino made me feel spicy in every way imaginable. The ride barely felt that long, and I only rubbed my face against the fluff of my jacket, feeling amazing. My thirst was sated, at least for now.

-

A few weeks later, a visit was well overdue and I was balls deep excited. Mikasa being twenty minutes away from me is like having the reasonable part of my conscience disappear. Her dorm wasn't that bad, but you certainly couldn't take a shit there without anybody knowing every sound that came out of your body.

She was waiting for me outside, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. Her winged eyeliner was all wing, no liner, but I wasn’t stupid enough to mention it. “I know my eyeliner's fucked up. You're a horrible person.” I grinned, instantly recognizing her hangover voice.

“Tell me something I don't know.” Selena Gomez, you monster.

“Stop. Don’t be that guy. Nobody likes that guy.” Uh, yes. I’ll always be that guy. She didn't look bad though, this was Mikasa. She could fucking pull off a trash bag, call it emo chic and everyone would believe her. I ran like the fuckbaby I was and hugged the boobs, smelling the hardcore liquor in her hair. I must have hit her giggle dick, because she let the rarest of laughs slip through. “I missed you,” she mumbled.

“Same. So are you going to take me to your cave, or will my balls freeze off?”

“You sound like Levi.” As if reminded, she pulled me aside closer, all detective Mom mode. And I knew my answer to whatever question she had would matter. “Are you both close friends, or something?”

Were we? He drives me home, to and from work. We talk. Text. Meme. But I do that with all of my friends, (then again I was very attached to him and wanted more than bromance so)- “I think so. He's basically seen me naked.” Her eyes widened. “With the body sushi pic you sent. Yeah, you sick fuck, I know what you were thinking.” She sighed, clearly expecting something spicier. I wish there was something spicy to tell. All I had were sad Facebook notifications telling me it was Reiner’s birthday. As if I cared.

“I mean, that body sushi thing was one of the most erotic experiences of my life,” I heard her say. We finally got to her room, which was again, (not surprised) spotless. She was Martha Stewart's wet dream. Her bedsheets were Hello Kitty, and the stuffed bear I gave her years ago looked like it's seen better days.

“You seriously act like I'm that attractive. Have you seen your ass, that shit's the real deal?”

The pink on her cheeks (who knew she could blush!) was there for a second before she punched me, _hard_. “Eren. From one hot person to another, the struggle for dick isn't that real for you.” She knows my name, not my story! Um, we've been through this before, I'm currently on a Dick Drought. And girls, well girls are difficult because they're actually smart.

“Mikasa, we have a lot to talk about.”

-

I have a father. And Grisha Jaeger, the Creator II, the X to my X, The Penetrator, 'dad,' is absolutely a no nonsense, dick shriveling man. He's the blood orange type of guy (Isabel sent that meme one too many times), the man who would ruin koala bears for you and tell you they naturally have chlamydia (sorry, Mikasa). It wasn't a father-son relationship, more of a Gordon Ramsay-random newbie chef one. I don't know how he managed to get at my mom, my mom doesn't even know, but if he had a list of what he loved:

  1. Carla, his wife Carla
  2. Carla
  3. Cancer research
  4. Carla 2.0 AKA Isabel



“Have you applied to intern at the hospital?” His I'm-judging-you look was super powerful and soul-destroying. I kept eating my chicken fat cat because I am what I eat.

“No.” I haven't even applied to med school yet, like hold your horses. But he stopped chewing his vegan ravioli (ew) and really looked at me, _really looked at me_. Soy tu offspring, father. That's Spanish, for anyone wondering.

“Well...you could start as a CCT. It wouldn't be hard-”

“Since it's your hospital,” I cut in, annoyed. It's difficult to rustle my jimmies, but he loved to test me, see how far he could touch the “Murderland” in my being before we had a two-week mutual silent treatment. “Yeah, I don't think I'm going to med school.”

His fork left his hand, as if I broke up with him. Yeah, dad, I love you, but it's you, not me. We can't do this anymore, you shouldn't have fertilized one of mom's ova. “You think?” He emphasized the second word, and I knew in his little Christian soul wanted to stab me with that fork, drag out my internal organs and program me into the perfect son. But I do not conform, no sir.

I pretended I didn't notice the absolute quiet rage. “I _know_. I think I'll be going into education,” I said.

He picked his fork up again. “So, health administration and policy? Research?”

I snorted. “No, like teaching. I want to teach biology, I like working with kids. Make a difference, yada yada.” This is the part where I know I'm disowned, it won't be said, but it will be implied. It amazed me that this actually used to pick at my self-esteem and idea of self-worth as a kid, but I really don't give a fuck now. Ever since I discovered alcohol, I've been peachy.

“Teaching kids? But not academia, or teaching in higher education?”

My balls shriveled up. “I mean, does it matter? My education, my loans, my business? Uh, I'm going to grad school, maybe you could live your dreams through Isabel? If she's stupid and mindless regarding the whole family full of idiots in the medical field ideal?”   

So glad I don't look like him, my mom is so cute. Even when she's mad, she looks cute. That must mean I look cute when I'm mad. “Do you know how difficult it is to have security in that profession-”

“My education, my business? Dad, this isn't some soap opera or the eighteenth century. And I'm an adult, so I know what I want to do. Why do you think every time we have this conversation I'm going to change my mind?”

He actually seemed frustrated, but I had no sympathy because I was eating, and eating is always Happy Sister Eren Time. He destroyed that, fucked it all up with his stupid opinions I could clean my ass with. “All I'm trying to do is steer you in the right direction.” Uh, no. No thanks. I decided that I should eat by myself if it meant a peaceful shit later.

“I have an appointment right now, I should get going.”

“No, you don't,” he said flatly.

“Well I do now.” We stared at each other for a while, before he decided to stop eating too.

“I'm not driving you back.” So petty, Jesus.

I tried my best not to bristle though. Because I was also a shitfuck, it had to be genetic. “Yeah, no worries. My boyfriend will pick me up.” It was worth it, I think... Seeing his face, imagining me, his only son, in love with someone without a uterus. Was I meant to procreate? No, was I meant to have a dog and cat? Yes. So I texted Levi, hoping he wasn't busy, my favorite fairy god driver.

He didn't answer, which meant Plan B. The Uber driver.

-

It's hard to admit, but when I'm pissed, I polish my rocket. Jimmy Neutron style, gotta blast! It's conflicting, especially when you see dry oatmeal and it reminds you of semen. You give in to your second head. I did, and trust me. I hate and love it. Regardless of the giant relief, there is an obvious sign that your dick was hibernating for quite a while, especially when you pop spectacularly. I was in my room trying to recover, feeling tired and happy. Yeah, the older you get, masturbating becomes a coping mechanism to keep your sanity. It's always the mess that gets to me. So I decided to take a shower, be a good Christian, eat cereal. Go to class, treat myself to some Netflix. Same old, same old. But then Hannes texted me, and my mood went from “wow I came” to “omg fuck you.”

 **Hannes** : Hope you didn't forget the anniversary party coming up. We're heading to the bar this year

Free alcohol, the only upside to this. It also meant having an outfit prepared for that day because I love total control. Being Christian Grey can be difficult except I enjoy being touched. Touch my meat and I'll love you.

I think for someone so mediocre, it takes very little to please me. It’s good, but also a little sad. I don’t mean in a way that it takes a lot for me to cum, but I like being rough. At first I thought it could be attributed to my daddy issues and my feelings of inadequacy as a human when I was obese, but I googled it.

It’s because I’m an Aries. Exactly. Blame everything on your zodiac sign, so then I looked up Levi’s. It seemed so fucking bizarre because every website said we weren’t compatible. That’s total bullshit, and the fact that I was thinking about this made me hate myself and cringe. Severely enough that I decided to take a walk. Yeah, I don’t understand, but walk it off is what my mom always said. Felt a little embarrassed for pulling a silent one-sided gay move right now. So, uh, walk it off.  

The great thing about this was that I ended up in Walgreens of all places, in the greeting cards section. It’s not like my embarrassment would fucking vanish the moment I left my place, because Jean was here too, as if the universe wanted to remind me about every single mistake. He had a new pack of condoms, Double Stuf Oreos, and a box of Special K in his basket. Forgot he loved to eat Oreos after fucking.

“Hey. It’s about time you left your cave to see the real world.”

“It’s about time you stopped buying Magnum condoms.” Shame made his face pink, but come _on_. Magnum condoms are the worst. I couldn’t relish the sweet victory since the ringtone I had for Levi made me whip my head so fast I felt disappointed for being such a whore. It was a picture of him eating sushi.

 **Levi™**  : Can’t eat this w/o imagining how saucy you are. Fuck you

My heart melted.  

-

I'm not a liar.

Yes, I am. But the point is that I am human and love alcohol, so when the date of Hannes’ get together creeped a lot closer, I was very tempted to shit on myself. Beauty guru time:

My outfit of the day will be the most fuckboy outfit possible. White overpriced shirt from Urban Outfitters, chino pants from H&M. That's fucking right. Chino pants. I just needed a white twink to fuck me in the ass while I wore black Vans slip-ons. Without socks. As Isabel would say, I was ready to conquer. It’s not like I stood in front of the mirror, hyping myself up. Styling my hair. Like an assholeTM.

I was, and boy did I not regret it because the moment my ass touched the car seat, I tried not to double take “Like a Virgin” (Madonna). I’m not sure if this is relatable, but lighting is everything, and the dark, _the dark_ can make anyone a lot more fuckable by a tenfold. It sharpens jaws, makes everything a lot more intimate than it actually was, makes dick jokes a lot more appropriate.

Levi looked at my get up and fucking laughed, his face too boner inducing for me to feel offended or triggered. He kept it really simple, and by simple I meant hot next door neighbor/modern lumberjack. White t-shirt and jeans. Should've gone shirtless in my honest opinion.

Okay.

I'm going to stop.

“Eren.” Fuck.

“Yeah?”

“Who's the designated driver?”

Oh, giggity giggity. He’s hilarious if he thinks I’ll be Sister Eren at the bar, too. But I don’t want him to look after me when I’m wasted, because frankly, I’m ugly when I’m not sober. So I shrugged and prayed he would get smashed, made sure my wink was casual, and who knows? “Can we eat after this?”

I was starving, and you’re not you when you’re hungry. Hungry enough to deepthroat a Hot Pocket again, the ham and cheese one. “Yeah. I want Dominos.”

What a gentleman. He sure knows what I stand for. The one who owned the bar was Nile, so the free drinks would be an endless possibility. Grad school will be stuffing its cock inside me quite soon and the best part about everything was that I could drink until I forget about my responsibilities.

I’m not Armin. I don’t get stoned and nap to drown my woes, not that there is anything wrong with that. I’m a great friend, we’ve been through this.

“Levi?”

His head was turned as he parked in reverse. The fact that I could see his neck :^)c. “What?” His hands turned the wheel quickly, finally pulling the handle to park.

“Did you ever fuck anyone at bible camp?”

The sound that left his throat wasn’t human, more like a meowing cat and the power I felt... no man should have it. “Bible camp? You still remember that?” My dad and his uncle Kenny had arranged for us to go to Bible Camp one summer, but the only one who ended up going was Levi. I broke my arm a week before we were supposed to be dropped off. Even Jesus didn’t want anything to do with me and I completely understood.

He didn't look that uncomfortable, but he didn't look proud either. “Fuck, I totally repressed that memory and you brought it back.”

“Who'd you fuck?” I was curious now. How dare he. Yes, not a question.

“No one. I just got a hand job.” For a moment, I thought he wouldn't continue but he tugged on his keys, which meant he was nervous. I let my silence demand for details. “It was after mass. He kind of looked like you. I came on the red tapestry. That's it, Eren, that’s all I’m willing to confess.”

Maybe I shouldn't look so judgmental but who sucks dick in church? Who lets their dick get sucked in church? My respect for Levi increased ten-fold, but Beyoncé was the only thing keeping me from laughing. “He?”

“Yeah, there's a lot of closeted gays at bible camp. You should've gone, honestly. Endless twink supply.”

“No thanks.” We left the car, the news still boggling my mind when we got in the bar. The biggest booth was in the corner near the bathroom. It seemed completely surreal. The red lighting made the atmosphere cult-y but Hannes and Connie ruined it. Thomas was there too, sadly. Considering life loves to be a shitfuck, Thomas Wagner, my TA, my sender of nudes, ended up being the person I interviewed. Hilarious, now he can harass me for dick pics when I'm on the clock.

My only salvation was the fact that our schedules didn't coincide, which meant we never saw each other. “Eren, Levi, it's about time. We're still waiting for Sasha and Mina.” Thomas thought scooting closer to me would be a great idea, but if I could rip his dick off I would. No doubt his termination in this lifetime will end spectacularly.

But I tried to be a good sport. Keep my head in the game, and by game, ignore my killing tendencies. Hannes listened to our woes of college, Sasha’s hemorrhoid situation, my grad school dreams. At this point I had a few shots and could feel Thomas worming his hand on my thigh.

Jesus Christ, if I had a vagina and we were sixteen, he'd be fingering me already. “Wow, someone's horny,” Levi said, looking at Thomas with the most Regina George scoff I've ever seen. His shot glasses were empty, but he nursed a beer nonetheless.

“I'm letting him so he can at least have jerk off material for later,” I said, removing his hand with as much disgust on my face I could manage. I didn't blame Thomas for looking offended since my guy thought I was the one who sweetly asked for his dick on Grindr.

“I thought you wanted the magic IRL,” he said.

“Babe, that was Armin who asked for that magic,” I snorted, downing the vodka without mercy. God it felt good just to be fuckless. The hot sensation that comes with drinking meant I was getting tipsy, and I was ready for more.

“Why that fronting, Eren? You sucking Levi now?”

Levi spat his beer, some of it landing on my arm. If it was another fucker, I would’ve decked him but this shitfuck just loved being a goddamn exception to everything. “Now that you mention it, yeah. It’s been happening for a while now. Only an idiot without a dick would fail to notice.” I ignored how uncomfortable Levi seemed, tried to disguise my own secret shame by asking the bartender for another round, this time gladly escaping the need to say more with straight alcohol down my throat.

Thomas winked. “If you both ever need some company-”

“I don’t share,” Levi cut in flatly.  Okay, now that made me horny. It’s the kind of thing you hear in porn.

“Really? I mean, I’ve had a thing for Eren since last semester.”

This time, I was severely tempted to spit my shot on Thomas, right on his face so his eyes would burn a little. Major assholery was my expertise, and even though I’ve been dickless for a while, it didn’t mean I was willing to jump anybody. If only Armin was here so he could see the collateral damage of his godawful actions. “I don’t give a fuck.” If Levi had texted that, there would be a sarcastic “lol” right after to convey his rage. Classic passive aggression.

“I listen to my boyfriend,” I said, and I knew my judgment began to skew. It teetered on the edge of “I will remember this tomorrow and hate myself for eternity,” but frankly, it’s been a while. Now, we all know I loved to be in control. Not necessarily because I was an asshole, mostly because it kept me in check. I had a daily plan to follow, color coded my notes, and days planned to the T. And when alcohol invaded my system, I had no conscience. Could not discern right from sin, and at this moment, I gave no fucks when I whispered in Levi’s ear. “I want to go now.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I thought you’d never ask. He was pissing me off.” I didn’t ask why. Because I knew it had nothing to do with the threesome proposal. We got up, Levi straightening me out when I lost my footing. Shit, I became Hange.    

A few gurgled good-bye’s later, and we were heading out into his car, my balls retracting inside of my body. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

“N-No shit,” he hissed, cranking up the heat. Honestly, the streetlight made him glow and I didn’t want to go home. This night could go in many directions. I am on the fork of a road, and as Robert Frost once suggested, I was prepared to walk the road less traveled. I am a poet. The next Arthur Rimbaud. A modern Shakespeare, perhaps. (I was drunk).

“Domino’s?”

His choked laugh fucking gave me heart palpitations. A poet must brace himself for these emotions. Now I knew what I was going to do. “Hell yeah.”

It didn’t take that long to get to his house, but it was an eternity regardless. My mouth was watering for different reasons because I was a whore. I opened the Domino’s app, ordering a pepperoni pie, lava cakes, and an oven-baked sandwich. Put it on my card because I couldn’t be fucked with when my mind was half-functional. It was absolute bliss, and it was spec-fucking-tacularly cute seeing him struggle putting the key in the hole. The moment he did, I was a dog. A poetic dog. I pulled him close and kissed him. Hard, and his cologne made my dick rise from the dead. His heartbeat went haywire, thick arms fisting my t-shirt in a way that I knew this would be the last time I could actually wear it. Urban Outfitters had nothing on me. He kicked the door closed, slamming it forcefully and kept me busy while pushing me to the couch.

“W-Wait, what time is the delivery coming?” He panted. That was the least of my problems.

I snorted. “Fuck that.” I had two heads, and the one attached to the lower half of my body was in control. Now that, my friends, is arousal. The cold meant nothing when everything, every cell in my body insisted on release. That fap session paled in comparison to this. No, I was in it for the plot now, I was here for the porn and plot.

“Your septum ring is cold.” His embarrassment made this a lot more real. Tangible. My body was a raging ball of horny instinct, my dick honestly started to hurt. So like a gentleman, I twisted the ring inside my nose. We stared at each other for a few seconds before we continued, animalistic and desperate that it reminded me of the first time I fucked. But I didn’t want to fuck right now, because this was Levi and if we did, I’d like to be sober. His cologne, it was that Chanel shit, it was driving me wild and Levi’s deep guttural moans just hit the spot. Oh, this was overdue. Extremely overdue, why was I even reluctant in the first place? I stopped, catching my breath, and gestured to his room.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t want stains on the couch,” I heaved out. My legs were completely incapacitated, but his bedroom was better. Hange walking in on us would make me jello, and I was dying to bust, to nut nut nut. Through the dark, I pushed him on the wall near his lamp and this was it. For the record, I don’t suck dick. I don’t like to, and if I do, it’s because you’re a damn gem and I’m feeling like Gandhi. The only dick I’ve had in my mouth was Jean’s and that was years ago. Plus the alcohol was doing Levi a huge favor. Without any preamble, my hands unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down. His boxers felt silky, but they were also in the way of what I had in mind. He had showered, and I wasn’t disappointed because of course he was fucking clean and he smelled so fucking good.

“Wait, Eren,” he gasped, his legs jerking as I got on my knees and swallowed it whole. “Fuck, fuck. I wasn’t ready.”

Stay still, I wanted to warn, but his fingers were on my hair and he was trying hard not to hump my mouth like a goddamn animal. I kept one hand on his thigh, steadying him because his knees were trembling a bit and my jaw was cramping up. Twisted my tongue, focusing on the head and foreskin before his groans melted into some verbal puddle of words. Now _that_ spiked my entire adrenaline, and my throat was burning, yet he still attempted to speak. His dick was easier to take when I found a rhythm, each pull gliding and smooth. Saliva slipped through the corners of my lips, and I looked up and he was absolutely stunning. The veins on his neck were tight, his eyes focusing on me in ways that made this seem a lot less dirty than it was. He finally began to tense up, the grand finale, he was ready to come. I felt his hand try to push me away, now _that_ was cute.

He didn’t want to come in my mouth, but _boy_ do I have a surprise for him. I held on to his thighs, pulling his dick towards me with my mouth, his body stiffening as he orgasmed. And I swallowed.

Guess who’s the winner? Me. This guy. God is good all the time, all the time god is good. I licked my lips, exhaling deeply and stayed on my knees. At this point, the pride I was experiencing hit the roof as he tried to stand. My jaw was buzzing and he was still looking at me with a mix of embarrassment and adoration. “That was heartfelt,” I said, smiling.

“Sorry. I really didn’t want to finish in your mouth.” His nervous laughter meant zero regrets.

“Trust me, they never do.”  

“They?”

I waved him off. “It’s been a while, let’s just say that.” I’ve done my fair share of eating girls out, and disclosing that confidential information was a no-no. I’m drunk, but I’m not _that_ drunk. It was excellent timing because my Uptown Puffs ringtone had to be the delivery guy. I left him zipping up, my familiarity with this apartment almost too sad, but perfect all the same.

When I came back to the room, he was already in his pajamas. “I didn’t take care of you,” he muttered, looking at my crotch with concern so similar to my mother’s. What a gem.

“I’ll worry about that in the morning.” My stomach was growling and that oven sandwich was better than any head right now. He sighed, and for some reason, it made me uneasy. I know Levi’s sighing system at this point, but he simply picked out a slice and nibbled it. We, mostly me, pigged out and everything tasted too good. I’m not sure how this ended. Only that I knocked out on his bed feeling gayer than usual.

-

This is the Shit Show. The I Hate Myself And The Entire Universe. I Hate Feelings.

Because I woke up. And the headache was nothing, really. Nothing at all. NothingTM, and it was worse when I looked over next to me. The bed had only one body: mine. I woke up alone, Levi-less, with a massive hangover, classic hard-on, and disappointed. I was extremely DisappointedTM, 75% emo and 25% pissed. Because last night was extraordinary, unless I was the only one who thought so.

 **Me** : Hey where are you lol ??????

That “lol” was ironic. I stared at the screen. Saw that he read it. Seven minutes passed. And then he answered.

 **Levi™**  : I’m at Erwin’s.

 **Levi™**  : There’s ten bucks on the dresser if you need a cab.

I stayed on the bed for a few more minutes, processing this interaction. Okay. Fuck you. I didn’t text that. Kept it to myself and future self-loathing sessions. Not even an emoji. The lingering soreness of my throat just added salt to the wound, and I stood up, actually wondered if this was some kind of joke. It had to be, because this was so unlike him. But I also didn’t want to drag this out, and receive blunt clarification that this was a one-time, one-sided blowjob fling. Ridiculous. This was terrible ‘the morning after’ etiquette. Who the fuck does this anyway? I put on my sweater, and saw that yeah, he left ten bucks on the dresser. Wow. I wanted to murder someone. How could he be a drunk gentleman and sober asshole? 

Okay.

That’s all I sent. Made sure the period would convey everything. I could jerk off just to make him wash his sheets, but I’m not animal. I left the ten bucks, and ordered an Uber. Considered mass homicide again, but decided to be a decent human being.

-

My lips were chapped and I couldn’t stop licking them. My nails were chewed and disgusting, and the worst part was that I remained Butthurt. Isabel, being a massive edge lord, could tell which was a low in itself. “You look like shit.” Even after I showered, exfoliated, and drank lots of water. Memes were my only savior at this point.

“Fuckitty fuck. News flash, I guess. Don’t like anyone. Your relationship with Farlan is a sham.”

Her hair had grown out since that last time I saw her, but her roots made her hairstyle a lot more deliberate than before. The red dye didn’t compare to the red flush creeping up her face. She was trying hard not to kick the living shit out of me. “I’ll be the bigger person because I’m a fucking lady and you’re very, very pissed. What hurt you, honey?” More like who.

If she wasn’t my sister, I would’ve pulled a mean whore move. But I stayed put and tried to clear my emotions. This morning was shit, and I had work in two hours. I had to see _Levi_ in two hours. What a black comedy. But her young wisdom may have some logic. After all, Isabel and her memes tend to have some genuine knowledge. “I got drunk last night. And this one person who I’ve been liking, I guess you could say, we finally got together. We did some adult things-”

“You sucked him off, didn’t you?” She asked flatly. Fuck.

“You’re fourteen.” I’m twenty-three.

“But you gave him a blowjob?”

“Isabel, please don’t.” Used my big bro voice there.

“Okay, sorry. So what? Shouldn’t you be happy you guys finally…hooked up?”

I played with my septum. “I mean, I was. I really was. But he ditched me before I even fucking woke up. Left ten bucks so I could get back home. Now that.” I hated that my voice actually cracked like I was some goddamn baby. “ _That_ was a shitty feeling.” Seriously, it was a heartfelt sexual favor.

She breathed dramatically, trying to bite down her gasp. “So thanks for the BJ, here’s ten bucks by the way! That happened?” The way she chewed on her lip reminded me of mom. Except I would never in any parallel universe tell my mother a sad head story. “That sucks. But maybe he’s embarrassed. I mean, you men are always stupid when it comes to feelings. Maybe he really didn’t know what to do and he needed some distance. Something stupid like that. What I’m getting at here is to wait. Talk to him again, and if he’s interested or apologizes and wants to take you out, go ahead. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

Wow. “You’re right.” That sounded in character.

Maybe things were all in my head. And I tried to keep her words in my mind. Even whistled and considered the idea that this would be fine. Levi’s always been pretty shy and iffy about certain things.

But let’s cut to the chase. It wasn’t. I got home, changed into my work uniform. Played with the option of teaching prenatal yoga again. Texted Isabel and told her good luck with her track meet. And when I finally got to the Trost District, I rehearsed what I’d tell Levi. This could all go wrong. I considered many possibilities and mulled over other fuck buddy options. Sina Mart’s doors only made me more anxious, and my supply closet suddenly seemed like the perfect refuge. I mean, things can only get better because life isn’t that much of a bitch.

“Hey, Eren.”

I looked up. “Hey, what’s up?”

Hannes was too uncomfortable for words. Whatever he’s about to say, I wouldn’t like it. Like the time the coffee machine broke. “Levi called this morning, said he’s quitting. Can you review back up apps and arrange an interview?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Forced a suburban mom voice, a “okay, sweetie, I definitely don’t want to strangle you, because that is illegal.” Replayed those words in my mind, tasted it bitterly in my mouth. Flashbacked to last night and his passionate kissing. He actually quit. I looked over his online file, and yeah.

Status: terminated employee

It felt surreal scrolling through his info, and skimming through new resumes.

 **Me** : you quit? go fuck yourself

I did my job though. Managed the store, rearranged a few displays, reported claims and returns. Being entirely on autopilot was fine and my productivity remained superb. When I got home, I showered again and any traces of my hangover were gone. Every part of my body ached with exhaustion.

 **Me** : why did you do that?

My message bounced back, which meant he blocked me. And being the petty asshole I was, I blocked him too. This became a shitshow, considering it was a just a blowjob and drunk foolery. We had friendship, and it honestly had to be something I did that made him react like this. I thought about our conversation, pre-blowjob, then after. Couldn’t pinpoint anything in particular and wanted to scream. Maybe it was the blowjob itself. Jean’s concerned stare hurt me more than it should.

“Woah there, buddy? What’s censoring your hentai?”

I pressed my face on the pillow, dismissing the fact that he’s farted on it. “I am finger-lickin’ mad. Take me to Taco Bell.”

His stubble equated to a week of hell for him, so at least we were both fucked in some way. “Alright. Marco’s not coming back till midnight.” It was like years ago, but Jean, Jeannie boy has always been my wall or anything solid, really. We got in his car, and I could barely move my feet in this food wrapper avalanche. The Burger King bag made me angrier due to feelings. Now because of Levi, I’ll be having negative associations to one of my favorite fast food chains. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me? McWrong with me?

“You’re still not cleaning this shit.” I tried my best not to be a snob, but Levi’s car was always spotless. Just saying. Fuck me.

He frowned. “You and Marco, I swear to god. Anyway, Armin called me about the retreat that’s happening in two weeks so I’ll leave my rent in the cereal box. Please don’t forget your keys, I’m not gonna be there to open the door.” I laughed, and then he did too and we were heehawing for no apparent reason. Ah, yes, adulthood. Laughing through the pain. And appreciating nature since everything else was too expensive.

“Jean. Am I, is there something about me that’s wrong?”

We were in Taco Bell’s parking lot, and not even Katy Perry could salvage the awkwardness of it all. He looked at me, really did, and we both came to the conclusion that this is the first time we’ve gotten together and held an actual conversation in a very long time. He also didn’t expect this turning point, so I understood his pause. “No. I don’t think so, and if we have to have some sort of gay moment here, with feelings and shit, I could say you have some great qualities. Let me help you out here, you look fucking fragile, my guy. Uh, let me see, you’re the reason I decided to give this college shit a try.”

Holy shit. Bro. “Comfort me. Don’t gas my head up. Or inflate my ego.”

“I’m serious! Fucking hell, Eren. You’re the best ex I’ve ever had, I mean how many people can say they can live with their childhood crush and first long-term boyfriend? What does that say about you?”

“That I’m pretty fucking great.”

“Yeah, I mean we did a lot of shit together. You sucked my dick for the first time, I ate your ass-”

“Jean, no.”

“We watched hentai and sent 4chan memes to each other. What kind of gay lords are we? Or do you want me to say ‘fag’ for some nostalgia?” Jesus Christ, those were the days. And my manbaby is about to be a lawyer.

I couldn’t help it. Gave my bro a hug. Bro hugs. Even if it smelled like shit in the car. “Fuck you. I want a Crunch Wrap Supreme.”

He tilted down his glasses. “I thought you’d never ask.”

-

Armin sent me his notes to comfort me.

 

> See the theoretical text as authoritative but malleable. Bruner: The self is defined by narrative. We keep retelling and reconstructing our ‘self’. The self we make continually goes out of date b/c of new experiences, meeting new people etc. Culture informs the way you view and present yourself. We construct ourselves as we want others to see us. We present ourselves as we want others to see us. The creation of self, that process, has becomes increasingly public. There is no essential self. Most religions assume an essential self, akin to a soul. Judgement from others affects the narrative of self. Self-help industry speaks to the publicizing of the self. Education contributes to construction of self. We are preoccupied with finding our “good” self. Psychological theories and theories of narrative generally align. There are different ways of conveying a story, depending on what you want to emphasize/hide/boast etc. The construction of self never ends or is completed, but we like to think it does. “” is never truthful. Self-making is guided by cultural models. Self is in some sense equivalent to “other”.

Good advice. Not really. He said that when Isle denied him “uber pussy” (his words, not mine, I will never utter such a thing, and if I did, put a bullet in my head!!!!!!!!!), he would go to the cat café or fight people on Twitter. Shitty advice, since 1) I don’t own a car and the nearest cat café was an hour away, and 2) I don’t really use Twitter. It’s funny since I’m always the person he goes to advice for. And we all know what kind of friend I am. The greatest! Which meant exercise was my therapist. I was in the middle ground. Emo, but empowered. It fell flat on my face when I woke up this morning with a sore throat and an intense cough. For the past two weeks, I concentrated on my sanity and general well-being. The gym was my number one spot (along with hardcore sessions of prenatal yoga), and then the trail. It occurred to me now that running in freezing weather with a tank top wasn’t the most sensible thing, and it was too cold in the bedroom. Work was undeniably hell now considering Thomas had free reign and I was still expecting to see Levi in register four, with those thick arms of his. He didn’t text me again, and what was more irritating was the fact that I left my glasses in his car. And we all know about the blocked situation. So. Again.

I was fuckitty fucked. Jean and Armin were the only ones who would bother looking after me, and they were gone. Like my motivation and eyesight.

Which led me to Mikasa.

 **Me** : you up??

I waited five minutes and was not disappointed.

 **MiCasa** : lol yepp wht’s wrong

Great. Exactly the opening that I needed. _“Why are you calling me? Is it that bad?”_

I bit down the itch in my throat. “Yes, how dare you? I just need a favor. I want meds, preferably Motrin and Theraflu. Uh, a gallon of Tropicana orange juice and lots of fucking cup noodles. I’ll pay you back by Monday.”

_“You sound terrible. Um, I’m at this EOF meeting. Let me see what I can do.”_

“Don’t forget the SleepyTime tea, I love that shit.”

“Yes, babe. I’ll take care of it.” Now, this was expected. If I called my mother instead, she would call my father. My father would then send an ambulance to my apartment, I would be hospitalized for no fucking reason, and I’d have an IV shoved in my arm for two days. No thanks.   

I’d rather suffer in silence, which was a past-time of mine since I started college. My insides were hot and throbbing with general pain, and so was my head. I lifted my arm to get a gist of my situation and yes, I was sick and weak. Extremely rekt. Mikasa’s twenty minutes away, and assuming she’s buying the stuff, I’ll be like this for half an hour at least.

Comforting myself with Netflix became an option, a great one. But that meant getting up.

 **MiCasa** : leave the front door open plss  

That meant getting up too. Fuck. I pushed my comforter aside and stood up, feeling like a Life Alert commercial and just wanting to die. It was cold, good gravy, but I unlocked the door and grabbed the remote because why the fuck not? I took note of the time, it’s been forty minutes. Forty minutes.

But she was doing me a favor, and I was tired so. I fell asleep.

-

The first thing I noticed was how dry my mouth was, absolutely deprived of any liquid. No saliva, and if my throat itched a bit before, it _burned_ now. It’s as if I had a cup of acid before I decided to nap. My eyes were watering, and my existence was actual feces. Before I continue, let’s imagine the current setting. A sick manchild, on his bed, dying and wanting to die. The apartment was supposed to be empty, meds were supposed to be on my bed. But of all things, I didn’t expect to see Levi sitting on my desk as well, a surprised and concerned expression on his face. I immediately felt my guard harden, and if I wasn’t crippled at this very instant, I was prepared to be violent. Fuck Mikasa up with the fury of an Aries. Never mind, I take that back. She probably didn’t know my emo situation. And she would hand my ass back to me without any warning.

“I tried to wake you up, but you were out.”

“Where’s-” The coughing fit intensified the fire, and honestly, I really wanted to be terminated. If Levi had to see me in this pitiful state after everything that happened, Jesus Christ. Please stop fucking me in the ass. He was hovering, all mother hen mode and I forgot how nice Levi looked. Blessed. “Don’t. Just pass me that water bottle there.”

He ignored me. “I made tea.” I was tempted to bitch, but I was in no position to be saucy. Not when I’m half dead and he’s the only functional person at my disposal. Swallowed the pill, physically and metaphorically. Now this was a nice “fuck you” from the universe. He passed me the mug slowly, and I avoided his touch like the plague.

“Why isn’t Mikasa here?” And why are you? It was ginger tea; my mother would be proud.

He must have detected the slight punch in that question because he also seemed like he was in pain. Good. He better be uncomfortable. “She’s upstate with her EOF program. And I wanted to apologize to you, for ghosting and everything else. I needed time to think, and uh, here I am.”

Ah, yes, an apology. “There was no need for that bullshit.” Uh, if there’s anything that I hated more, it was being emotionally constipated. My existence embodied a Drake album, and this entire pining ordeal was almost high school intense. Except I was hairy and taxes and student loans were featured in this romantic comedy.

“I fucking know that. But you make me nervous.” He cracked his fingers, looking at my Pink Panther poster with too much concentration. I forgot I was wearing my “I Eat Ass” shirt.

“You ghosted me. And blocked me. That nervous? I must be an asshole or some shit like that for you to avoid me-”

“Eren.” I hated that he said my name like that. We haven’t seen each other in the longest, and at this point, I would’ve already sucked his dick twice. His loss. But Levi sat on my bed anyway, his weight making me bounce up, arms thick and even in my deathly state, I had to stare. “Look, when you said that, after the thing happened that night, that um, ‘they’-” his fingers made air quotations, “-never want to finish in your mouth, I thought this was a one-time thing. And I’m not that kind of guy. The past few weeks, and I’ll be transparent because the moment definitely calls for it and you’re very upset. I know that if you were physically capable right now, you would murder me with your prenatal yoga moves, and I needed distance, I needed time to think. Think about me, and to an extent, you. Because when I spend time with you, it’s very…nice.”

“That’s all you have to say? ‘Nice’?” Although his confession was very eloquent, I was trying hard to remain angry. This is what it takes, people. A near death experience to get a confession, a crippling condition to tug at the heart and soul.       

His exasperation was so LeviTM, eyes rolling far in the back of his skull. Yikes. “You absolute fuckass. Eren, god. You know it’s fucking annoying, right? Me dropping you off at home, you never inviting me over? Sharing food on break? I don’t share. I never share. All the times I was hoping we’d spend the night together, at least like bros, or some shit like that. Before we got drunk that night.”

“At least like bros?” Wow, he was gayer than I thought.

“I mean, it’s very frustrating because you’re difficult. One minute, you’re so attentive and make me feel like I’m special, and the next, someone else is pursuing you and you’re so scattered. The mixed signals, fuck. It’s confusing shit, and that night you didn’t let me finish you off, and I may not look it, but I need constant validation. You hit me with two blows. First, I was not the only one who’s come in your mouth, I was one among many, and second, you picked pizza over me. We were drunk and I was not about to be clingy simply because you gave me amazing head.”

I listened to this dialogue. Soaked it all in. “It’s because I’m an Aries” was on the tip of my tongue. “So you ghosted because you thought I didn’t feel the same way?” That seemed more sensible. And cliché. It salted my apples, and we all know how I feel about a romantic atmosphere.

He was quiet, but this conversation was a McGangbang and it didn’t bother me as much. Probably because this meant we are now technically a thing. A Real Thing, and even though my body was failing me, I pointed to my shirt. Levi’s barked out laugh, his grin a bit forced. “I know you do, but I won’t eat your ass when you’re sick.”

Okay, so the idea was out there. Great. My tea tasted a lot better now. “Speaking of ass, where do you work now?”

He settled more by my side, pulling the sheets. Kicked his shoes off and fluffed the pillow. The warmth from my body made this a lot more comfortable, everything that happened the past two weeks seemed completely irrelevant. Pettiness was an option, but I wanted to brush this aside for once and be mature. Grisha would be proud. Plus, it would actually be a conflict of interest if we were dating and I was his manager. “Taco Bell.”

“Shit, seriously?”

“Yeah, I called Mike after I had a crisis at Erwin’s. That’s where I went that morning, after…y’know. Erwin was a real dad, told me honesty was the best policy. And then you texted me, which I have to admit, you made me feel like shit.” I opened my mouth to screech, but he cut me off. “Yes, I do recognize that I was an asshole, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a situation like that.”

“I’m tired of this conversation. Let’s move on to something memingful.”

He leaned on his elbow, and I can’t imagine getting tired of looking at his arms. Noticing the thirst, he pushed the blanket up to his chin as if he were some sort of nun. Embarrassment was cute, but validation was better. “Memingful?”

“Let’s watch Futurama is what I’m trying to propose.”

And that’s how you date a Taco Bell employee for free Crunch Wrap Supremes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt offended in the streets of Newark realizing Taco Bell was far away from me.  
> [inspiration](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6x-JVXkd8SQ)  
> [more](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wl-LeTFM8zo)
> 
> also, the lumberjack description, idk if u've seen "The Boy Next Door" w/ Jennifer Lopez; the scene where the guy helps her for the first time, that's what Levi was wearing, but Levi isn't a murderer/stalker. anyway, Heiney, i'm sorry, i've never written a bj scene so brace yourself my friend.

**Author's Note:**

> im back!! this got too long


End file.
